


Livin' out her dreams, rippin' off my jeans

by TotemundTabu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Hair-pulling, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Pegging, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: for the prompt: Asha Greyjoy/Jon Snow: traveling, holidays, commitment, femdom !She snorted, crossing her arms with fake offense, while a playful smirk stained her lips, “So, a reindeercracy dystopia would be better than seeing my brother for Christmas?”“The reindeers wouldn't torture me with sex anecdotes and dick jokes.”





	Livin' out her dreams, rippin' off my jeans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subjunctive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/gifts).



> Hopefully I did a good work and didn't step on any pet peeve ;) I hope it's enough long and you will enjoy it!   
> Happy Holidays!

**Livin' out her dreams, rippin' off my jeans**

 

* * *

 

 

Jon sipped his coffee slowly, sitting at the window seat, looking outside of the glass with that gloomy, broody expression that matched Christmas so well. Asha chuckled, looking at him.

He was just so pretty and tasty, even with that puerile pout, so tempting in his absent-minded way of ruminating and pondering with a serious face over the silliest thing.

“The neighbours Christmas decoration are plotting a government coup?”, she snarked, coming up close from behind him.

He groaned low, then turned to her.

“It would be a more interesting perspective than tomorrow's lunch.”

She snorted, crossing her arms with fake offense, while a playful smirk stained her lips, “So, a reindeercracy dystopia would be better than seeing my brother for Christmas?”

“The reindeers wouldn't torture me with sex anecdotes and dick jokes.”

“At least, - she chuckled, hugging him from behind, sniffing the soft scent of his hair, he smelled so sweet: apricot and lavender covering his masculine murky musk – My family doesn't do choral singing of Christmas songs. - she kissed his ear, brushing its shell with her wet lips – With all the sweaters on looking like some kind of brainwashed quacker group.”

Jon let out a small laugh, in between offence and arousal. He felt his cock harden as Asha's breath crossed his ear, right before her lips travelled lower, trembling on his neck, her big tongue licking him tender before her teeth sank into him.

He groaned, bucking his hips. His coffee danced in the mug with his slow thrusts, threatening to spill, coming too close to the rim.

Asha chuckled and took it out of Jon's hands, placed it next to them.

“Now, wouldn't it be a shame if I were to fuck you right here? In front of the window?”

“Asha– ”, he warned her, not very convincing, with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of her sucking his neck sore and purple, dragging the blood to the surface.

Her hands moved forward to his chest, caressing him through the fabric of the hoodie. She felt him flinching and shivering as she moved her hands inside it, making the zip slide down and expose his skin.

“Are my hands that cold? - she chirped, wicked, while one of her hands grabbed Jon's cock through the jeans – Because here you don't seem to be suffering because of it?”

Jon let out a low groan, almost a growl, and let his head fall back, leaning it against her shoulders.

“You're so...”

“Charming?”, she suggested.

“... perpetually horny.”

“ _Perpetually_. - she mocked him, lovingly, kissing his neck, one hand stroking his cock through the trousers and one brushing over his tense, pink nipples – For someone who mocks my brother you sure talk fancy like him a lot.”

Jon panted, pins and needles flooding his veins, fire skimming and riding his skin, “Do we have to discuss your brother while you touch my chest?”

She twisted his nipple, softly, making him whine and squirm, his hips bucking against her other hand. Her breath was hot and lascivious, an invisible flame of desire, burning Jon's ear.

She felt like cold fever, burning shivers – branding them into his spine. She was the thunderstorm and the iron that would conduct it through him.

Her bite dragged out purple from his skin as Jon moaned, his jeans becoming a constricting prison against his half-hard, twitching cock.

Jon's eyes were heavy-lidded, black with desire.

Asha's lips brushed against his ear again, “Beg me to.”

She didn't need to precise.

“Please. - Jon panted – Fuck me.”

“Good boy.”

Her fingers danced on the swollen tent in his pants, popped open the buttons on his jeans and his pained, neglected cock sprung up, red and needy. Jon panted, his lips wet, parted, while whines escaped them.

Her hand circled his cock and started fisting it to full hardness. Jon twitched, writhed – he tried, as always, to keep his voice low and hoarse, but failed miserably as Asha's speed increased, her fingers tormenting his shaft and rubbing his cockhead until precum started to wet it.

His eyelids fluttered with need shaking through his limbs, electric. He moaned throwing his head back and Asha, holding him from behind, chuckled in his ear.

“You're so big and desperate. Look at you, you look like you're gonna explode.”

Jon groaned, “Cruel.”

Her laugh grew low, her pace fastened, “I sure hope some neighbour comes out to see this spectacle, sweetheart.”

“Oh, c'mon...”

“You're way prettier than I am. I bet half of the fifty years olds on this street would rather stick it up your ass than mine. - she smelled his hair and kissed it, her fingers pressing on the slit of the cockhead – Maybe they can see how much you want it.”

Jon let out a chocked chortle, “Little they know, you'd fuck theirs if you could.”

“Oh, I wouldn't. - she sounded almost soft, her hand squeezing the base of his dick, as if she had to strangle it – Not when I have the prettiest boy all for me.”

“Flatterer.”

Her hand left his cock and for a moment he looked at her in betrayal, until the realization stroke him and his eyes gleamed in a deeper, thicker arousal than before.

“Lick my cunt, pretty boy. - she chuckled, smug – I know you've been waiting for this.”

Jon nodded, licked his lips, sucking them wet and smouldering. He laid on the window seat while Asha spread her legs and sat over him. Jon felt his blood stir and boil as Asha's pussy was on his face.

Her scent was dark, sweet, her juices dampened his lips already, and he unsheathed his tongue, licking softly her tender pink folds. Asha bit her lips red, arched her back, her hips moving as to suggest Jon a rhythm. He slid his tongue in, and she let out the lowest moan.

But then Jon grabbed her hips, pushing her lower. His lips brushing on her clit, soft and scorching like hell, while his tongue pushed in, big, wide, and quick, fucking Asha's cunt and leaving her soaking Jon's face with her nectar.

She ran her hand through his curls, pushed him gently, almost as an encouragement, not that he needed any.

Jon was greedy.

He lapped her and licked her like he hadn’t craved anything else for years. 

Asha bit her own hand to try and choke her moans – while she enjoyed the sounds Jon was letting out, desperate for her to come more than he seemed to come himself.

He swirled his big tongue over her needy clit, making her shiver.

Her hips writhed and trembled and he sank his fingers more into them, bruising them slightly. She was going to punish him for that later, though.

She tasted so sweet against him. Her soft hair tickled his nose and he loved that brackish, salty scent. Her breath would get heavier, undone, as her shivers rode electric and her need became palpable on his tongue.

And she felt so swollen and wet and she'd push more against him.

He twirled and twisted his tongue, drawing circles on her clit, lapping it, sucking it like water in the desert; Asha would roll her eyes to the ceiling, bliss overriding her nerves.

“Good boy.”, she breathed out, slowly, almost stregthless.

He teased and tormented her, and drank her wetness and her shivered twitches. 

She felt too good for his own good too; eating her was addicting, it called to him, like the moon makes the tides rise.

And when her breath became drenched and she fell silent, he just knew, and his tongue passed more merciless, more precise, twisting, right over her raw gland, and she melted. And bucked and rode against his tongue, as if she wanted to fuck him. 

The tongue jolted against her softness in circles and then around and all over the most sensitive part, that made all of Asha twitch and melt in electrocuted bliss.

And she groaned and came hard. Jon shivered as her taste hit his tongue even more and lapped her oversensitive flesh.

Asha tried to protest, but only shapeless moans came out, undone, as his tongue tortured her afterglow, painting it with other bliss.

She rose slightly, but her cunt was still right above his open mouth.

Jon almost gave a smug smirk, all too proud, and slid two fingers in her drenched cunt. Asha took them in unbelievably well. 

“Swallow all of it, if you want me to fuck you.”

Jon nodded, curling his fingers and searching for her most sensitive, tender spot, and pressed against it, rubbing it, slowly, dragging out of Asha low moans, shattered breaths and shivers.

Her legs trembled, her scent emerged stronger, murkier, as he extracted pleasure from her.

Jon pressed more, milking her soft insides, feeling Asha's orgasm breaking against and around his hand and tongue. She arched and screamed, her walls torn into sparks of delight, while her insides were sucked out to the last drop of pleasure, coming all over in a sweet waterfall. 

Waves of pleasure took over, pumping through her, emptying her to exhaustion, and she peaked again, squirting into Jon's eager mouth. Her drops sprayed against Jon's lips and his tongue, and he licked them clean and sucked up all of her taste.

Asha moved from above him, smirking, but her breath faltered.

She slapped him red and Jon looked both outraged and aroused, as his cheek burnt.

“Now you should bend over. - she raised her eyebrows, a wicked gleam shone in her glare – Your ass well up. - she bit her lips – And your face towards the window.”

He seemed to hesitate and swallowed dry.

“...what if they see?”

“Don't you want it? - she asked, perfectly able to read the answer in his eyes – Do you not want the whole neighbourhood to know what a little slut you are?”

Jon whimpered, his neglected cock twitching.

And he sucked his lips.

Asha grinned, moving just enough to grab her strap-on and lube; Jon positioned himself, waiting, with his ass presented, widening it with his hands, while his body laid on the window seat. His cock brushed against the soft fabric and he trembled.

He wanted to come already, it was almost painful, but he knew how much better he would have felt with Asha inside.

The lube felt cold in his crack, sliding into him, and Jon shivered, cursing, “Fuck, couldn't you have warmed it up a bit?”

“Brat.”, she reprimanded him, inserting the first finger.

Jon 's jaw dropped and he shut up, welcoming it inside and starting to taste the stretch to come.

He felt the blunt head of the toy pressing against his entrance, widening his tunnel, taking up space, claiming him. Jon held the fabric, knuckles whitening and he clenched his teeth, trapping the most lustful moans that Asha's shaft was taking out of him.

Inch after inch the slight burn turned to splendour and bliss. He needed more. He took the girth, feeling the pleasant tearing, the pulling, getting drunk on the feeling of the length stuffing him.

His jaw dropped again, moans rolling out in drops of curses, begging, needy whines.

Asha chuckled.

“You're so tight...”

“You're using the big one.”, he half-cried, but he felt too good to actually complain.

“My whore got too loose for the other one.”

Jon whimpered.

He liked being called that, for some reason. It made him feel owned, possessed, like he had no other function than welcoming Asha's pleasure. 

And then she moved.

And, god, she moved so well, so knowingly of his insides. Jon scooted forward, his tongue out, his back torn by shivers. Heat pooled in his balls, stirred his neglected, desperate cock, while he sobbed – pleasure overriding him – as Asha aimed to his prostate.

Every hit was an electric spark; and his ass begged for more.

Asha pushed and thrust, before shallow and slow, then deeper and rougher, aiming, deliberately making sure to torment Jon's sweetest spot with every slam, to melt him into a puddle of mortified pleasure.

Jon's sight blurred, his head felt dizzy. And then he felt Asha's hand pulling his hair, like the reins of a horse.

“God, you take me so well.”

Jon replied just with sobs and moans mixed, his flesh overwhelmed by the heat, his cock pulsing desperate for release. He felt like he was about to faint, on the edge of bliss for so long, with every hit.

“Beg me to.”, she said.

And, once again, she didn't need to specify.

“Please, let me come.”

Her hand pulled his hair stronger while the other one landed on his ass cheek with a deep slap, staining the skin in red. The spank made Jon buck and rut.

Asha's hand then slipped to his cock and held it, jerking it in perfect synchrony with her thrusts. Jon lost words, his breath broke all over and his moans rained out of his mouth.

He could barely feel anything except the pleasure of his prostate and cock being brought to the edge at the same time, overcoming any human resistance to lewdness.

He fell forwards, his knees losing any strength and Asha grabbed his hips, sinking so deep into him that Jon felt blissfully violated all over again and marked like an animal. She fisted his cock to fullness and Jon came, spluttering come all over the fabric.

His breath still trembled.

Asha didn't exit.

“A... sha, please. - he breathed out, his voice hoarse – I just came, I...”

She caressed his curls and then pulled them again. The pain sharpened his nerves and he felt again his ass full and needy.

His flesh was raw, oversensitive from the orgasm just passed, when Asha moved in again, and again. A thrust, then another, growing harder and rougher, hitting his sweet prostate mercilessly as only she did, reducing him to a hot, whimpering, squirming mess.

He sobbed, delight filling him, his cock pulsing and twitching.

“Your asspussy is so soft. - Asha cooed, cuddling and pulling his locks altogether – Do you want to come just from it, baby?”

Jon nodded weakly.

And then Asha slammed in, the full cock pressing inside him, moving and thrusting her hips like she could come too. Jon had that wild desire sometimes too, to have her come inside his ass.

The base of the cock was bigger, wider, and when Asha was all in, Jon could feel his prostate hammered and squished by it with every hit. Asha pounded in him, pulling his hair, forcing him to arch and welcome it fully, while he would moan, higher and higher.

He felt so close to fainting, it was unreal.

She plunged into him harder, impaling him deep, pounding him open and writhing around her.

Jon let out the fainted, neediest cry and she hit his prostate again, making him come in a dry orgasm, drenched only in his moans.

She moaned too, and crave burnt in her nerves as well, so she moved still slow and soft in his ass, feeling also his afterglow, before slipping out. She felt herself drenched too, but Jon was panting too hard for her to ask for another one of his best services.

Instead, she took off the strap on, and moved close to him on the window seat, kissing his nose and beard softly. Jon gave her a dark look.

“So... have I earned my family Christmas dinner?”, she asked, with a grin up to her ears that reminded Jon a bit too much of her brother.

He groaned, but couldn't help but smile, charmed.

“You're terrible.”

 


End file.
